The man looked through the peephole. Then he called through the door, “Who’s there?” After waiting a few more seconds, the man shoved the dead bolt aside and opened the door. He stared out and started to close it when a hand reached out toward his leg.
It was Emmet.
“What the…” the man yelled, seeing Emmet on the ground to the right of the door. He started kicking his foot, but Emmet held on. Then he screamed, “My ankle. What have you done to me? What are you anyway, some kind of filthy beggar?”
Josh raced toward the front door. He ran right into the coffee table and jabbed his thigh on the sharp edge. The statue fell from his hand and shattered, but he just kept going. He had seen Emmet. No way was this man going to hurt Emmet.
Josh growled and tackled the man from behind, both hands around his lower body, his legs. The man fell forward over the doorstep, landing on his face right next to Emmet. Blood was oozing out of a deep cut in his ankle, staining the landing. He tried to get up, but Josh pulled back and slugged him right in the face. He fell back down. Josh then threw himself on the man’s side and pressed his entire body weight down to hold him.
“Emmet,” he panted. “Are you okay?”
“Josh,” Emmet stammered. “I…was…so…scared.”
The man was silent, a glazed look in his eyes. Both Josh and Emmet looked at him and then looked away. “Here,” Josh said, reaching for Emmet’s hand, pulling him closer. “Want to give me a hand here, Emmet? Shit, you didn’t look scared to me. I was the one who was scared, man. Believe me, you never looked so good, Emmet. Thought I might want to kiss you right on the mouth.” Josh took a breath and then continued, “What did you cut him with?”
Emmet was sitting on the man’s legs while Josh sat on his chest. He smiled with pride. “This,” Emmet said, holding up the bloody rag containing the lid to the can of peas and showing it to Josh.
“Cool,” Josh said. “Totally cool, Emmet. You took this guy out with a tin can lid. Wait until I tell Ricky. That’s wild. I love it.”
Seeing a woman staring up at them from the downstairs apartments, Josh yelled at her, “Hey, call the police. Can you do that, huh? Can you call the police? We’ve got something for them. We need a little help up here.” He paused and then yelled again, “And tell them to make it fast. We don’t want to sit on this guy all night. We’ve got other things to do, you know.”
Then he turned to the little man and smiled.
Detective Rickerson finally raised the dispatcher and she began speaking. “The S.O. has been trying to reach you. They’re at an address in Irvine and would like you to 11-98 with them there. They have a Josh McKinley there and he was asking for you. The call came through their switchboard as a suspect in custody being held by a civilian—a citizen’s arrest.”
“Josh,” Lara started screaming, hearing nothing other than his name. “Josh is supposed to be in San Clemente with his friend. Something must have happened.” She punched Rickerson’s shoulder. “Quick, find out if he’s okay. Find out what’s going on.”
“Station one,” Rickerson continued, ignoring Lara. He was in the middle of the biggest mess of his life, and now he had to deal with some kid playing cop. “Get a phone number. I’ll call them.”
A few moments later she returned with the number, and Rickerson called the sheriff’s deputy on the portable phone. He listened and then his eyes got wide and his mouth fell open. “You’re shitting me?” he said.
Lara yanked on his sleeve, about to rip it right off. “Tell me,” she yelled, completely beside herself. “Is he okay?”
“Yes,” he snapped at Lara. “For God’s sake, calm down.” Then he returned to the conversation. “John Murdock, huh? The man was John Murdock? What’s his wife’s name?” He listened and then answered, “That’s what I thought. Judge Irene Murdock. We’ll be there as soon as we can. Keep the boy there. An Emmet Daniels? Yeah, I know who he is. He’s there too. Shit, this is a fucking carnival here.” As soon as he hung up, he hurled the phone against the dash. It struck and tumbled to the floorboard.
“Irene and John,” Lara repeated. “Tell me what this is about! Now, Rickerson. Has something happened to Irene and John? And you said Emmet…did something happen to Emmet?”
“Stay here,” he barked, his composure gone, his case against Evergreen dissolving right before his eyes. “Josh is fine. Emmet is fine. And I wouldn’t worry right now about your good pals the Murdocks,” he said sarcastically. Then he took a deep breath and looked at Lara. “I need to check something and then we’ll go get them.”
Rushing into the house again, he found Leo Evergreen still sitting on the yellow sofa. “Judge Evergreen,” he asked, a lot more politely than he felt, “did you ever loan your house to someone? You know, possibly John Murdock?”
Evergreen lifted his head and his chin jutted out. “That’s Irene’s husband. He’s a physician. They’re very good friends. Why would I loan anyone my home?”
“Yes, that’s Irene Murdock’s husband,” Rickerson said. He knew who the man was. He didn’t need Evergreen to tell him. “Did they ever house-sit when you were away—you know, look after things?”
Evergreen looked down at his hands and thought about this for some time. Then he said, “Well, yes, I believe they did, but it was many years ago. I went to Europe after my wife passed away, took a leave from the bench. Everyone told me to do it. I didn’t want to go.” He was regressing, returning to those sad days of grief. “Irene and John took care of my dogs and watered the plants, things like that. They looked after our son. He was only sixteen then. He was adopted, you know? My wife loved that boy. She wanted children so badly.” His breath seemed to catch in his throat. “She would be brokenhearted if she knew how things have turned out. We’re not very close—my son and I.”
Rickerson suddenly felt sorry for the man sitting before him. From the look on his face, he didn’t have a lot to live for. He seemed so alone in this huge house. He was nothing but a sick old man still grieving for his dead wife.
“What’s this all about?” Evergreen said, searching the detective’s face, regaining a measure of authority. “Officer, I demand you explain this to me this second or leave my home.”
“Look, Judge Evergreen, we’ve made a serious mistake here. I can’t divulge all the details now, but we’ll inform you of everything in time.” Rickerson started yelling at the men, trying to get their attention. They were rifling through everything, tearing the house apart. “We were only trying to do our jobs.” he said to the judge as he left the room.
He found the chief in the bedroom. He wasn’t going to be happy. Rickerson told him. “Evergreen’s not our man. It’s John Murdock.”
The chief looked up. “Who in the hell is John Murdock?”
“He’s married to Judge Irene Murdock. The S.O. has him in custody. Let’s clear. Just leave some of the guys to smooth things over, try to put the place back together.”
The chief glared at him. tossing some of Evergreen’s property back into the drawer where he had found it. “This better be good, Rickerson,” he said, his mouth a thin, hard line. His eyes flashed behind the thick glasses. “This better be damn good.”
Three hours later. Josh, Emmet, and Lara were waiting in the lobby at the San Clemente Police Department. John Murdock had been sequestered in an interview room for over two hours with Detective Rickerson and his attorney. The chief had called Irene Murdock and instructed her to come to the police station, where they were holding her husband. They informed her he had a minor injury, refusing to tell her anything more. As yet, she had not arrived.
Josh and Lara were huddled together in a corner in the lobby. Emmet was exhausted and sitting quietly across the room, his head drooping to the side of the wheelchair. On several occasions he had dozed off.
Lara was guzzling black coffee and chastising Josh. “I can’t believe you did that. You went against what I told you and got yourself in a terrible mess. There’s no telling what he could have done to
you. You could have been killed.”
He smiled, unfazed by Lara’s ranting. She’d been saying basically the same thing for hours. “We got him, though, didn’t we? Wasn’t Emmet cool? Can you believe he cut the guy with the lid from a can of peas?”
Lara sighed. “Yes, we got him. And yes. I’m totally impressed by what Emmet did, but Josh, if you ever do anything like that again, I’ll ground you for the rest of your natural life.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, the smile a permanent part of his face. “Emmet and I are heros. You can’t ground a hero.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “You’re a hero, all right. But I can still ground you anytime I want and don’t think for a minute that I won’t either.” Then she set the coffee cup down and seized him, locking him in a bear hug. “I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.” She whispered in his ear. “Do you understand? Do you know how much you mean to me?”
“Yes,” he whispered back. “I love you too, Aunt Lara.”
When she finally pulled away, her eyes were filled with tears. But she was smiling.
They waited for another hour, but Irene Murdock didn’t appear. Finally Rickerson came out of the interview room and approached Lara and Josh. “He spilled his guts, even though his attorney advised him not to. I think in some ways he was relieved it was over. He’s been under a psychiatrist’s care—a Dr. Werner.”
“Werner?” Lara said. ‘That’s the psychiatrist that Irene recommended for Josh. Christ, you think he knew about this?”
“He certainly knew Murdock was a pedophile, but I doubt if he knew about the crimes. Even if he did, he was in a bad position. You know, patient confidentiality and all. He couldn’t come forward.”
“What about Irene?” she said. “Don’t tell me Irene knew what John was doing. It’s hard enough to believe that John was who he was, but Irene…” Lara played it over in her mind. She walked to the wall and looked at the pictures there. They were portraits of the officers who had died in the line of duty. Then she turned and faced Rickerson.
“Tell me everything,” she said and then glanced at Josh. “I guess he can hear too. I mean, he’s involved up to the hilt.”
All three sat on the sofa in the lobby, Rickerson sitting on the edge turned sideways. Emmet pushed a button on his wheelchair and joined them, all eyes and ears. “Murdock’s been molesting young boys for years. How many we can’t possibly venture to guess. For quite some time, he’s only seen patients in his medical practice in the mornings. The afternoons he spends in that apartment, taking calls from young kids.”
“I’ve known Irene and John for years,” Lara said, shock and disbelief registering on her face. “Naturally, I knew Irene better than John, but still I would have never known. He was a doctor, for God’s sake. They were pillars of the community.”
“Yeah, well, he claims he had nothing whatsoever to do with Packy’s killing. He’s sort of pussy-whipped. It’s obvious Irene wears the pants, wields the power. When your sister started blackmailing him, he tried to handle it alone. But there was a problem. All of their assets were in joint accounts, requiring both their signatures, and all the banks knew Irene was a judge. They certainly didn’t want to make a mistake with her money. Murdock said he managed to withdraw the first fifty thousand without Irene knowing, but when he went back for the next fifty, the bank contacted her.”
“The next fifty?” Lara said. “Want to explain that?”
“First, your sister and Perkins demanded the fifty G’s. Then once he paid, they must have decided to press for another fifty. The bank got nervous because Murdock was asking for a huge sum of money in cash and with all the divorce cases—you know, one spouse cleaning out the bank account—they notified Irene. Murdock said he had to tell her. Your sister and Sam were threatening to take the pictures to the police. I guess she was pretty shocked, even threatened to divorce him. She insisted he enter therapy with Werner. But according to John, she was mortified that their sons would find out and it would destroy them, that her career would be ruined and her standing in the community. She told him she’d handle it. Evidently one son’s in medical school, the other in Harvard. She dotes on them, I guess.” Rickerson paused. Her efforts had been in vain. The young men would know it all now. “She must have sprung Packy, and from what Murdock says, Packy just went wild in there. He raped your sister and then ended up killing them both. When the Murdocks figured out Sam and Ivory were related to you, Lara, and Packy raised the stakes, demanding more money, it’s my guess that Irene killed him.”
“Irene?” Lara said, completely shocked. “No. That’s not possible. Irene is my friend. She would never have killed someone. Not Irene. No, you must be mistaken.” Lara walked over to the wall and leaned her forehead against it. “Then it was Irene who came into my chambers and typed up that order to release Frank Door? God, he could have killed me and she didn’t even care.”
Rickerson continued, “John Murdock doesn’t know for sure, but it’s my guess that Irene herself met Packy that day and shot him through the window of the car. Her husband didn’t even know he was dead. That is, if we can believe what he’s telling us. Anyway, that’s why Packy was caught off guard. Irene made John hire him and arrange everything—to get the photos back. All she did was make the phone call to Evergreen. It’s my guess Packy knew nothing about Irene, only that someone high-placed in the system was involved. When she showed up that day, he probably had no idea who she was.”
“Jesus,” Lara said, turning around, facing both Rickerson and Josh. “This is beyond belief. I would have never dreamed…never in a million years. And John used Evergreen’s house to molest children?”
“At one time. He did more than that, Lara. He molested Evergreen’s own son. According to him, it was Robert Evergreen who took most of the pictures. He started molesting the boy when he was about eleven, even before Evergreen’s wife died. He used to go over and get him, take him out to play miniature golf, things like that. Evergreen was older. The boy was adopted. He didn’t spend a lot of time with his son. John Murdock became like a substitute father, having raised two sons of his own.”
“What about his own sons? Did he molest them?”
“He says no. One boy was in college when this all started. Another in high school. My guess is they were too old to be appealing. Once Robert Evergreen passed puberty, Murdock stopped molesting him. Then he had him be the photographer. He helped Evergreen recruit other victims. It’s really very sad. From what he says, Robert Evergreen is a homosexual now and lives with another man, a musician. He and his father seldom speak. The old man couldn’t handle it.”
“Does Leo know about this…the child molests? Does he know what happened to his son?”
“I’m sure Leo Evergreen knows nothing about this,” Rickerson said.
“Should we tell him?” she asked, thinking of all they had already put the poor man through. They surely owed him an apology. “It could kill him.”
“No,” Rickerson said. “Not unless we have to. What we have to do now is find and arrest Irene Murdock. We sent a unit to the house, but she was gone. We’ve notified the airports. My guess is she’s trying to leave the country. When John Murdock learned who Josh was, he called Irene. She was on her way to the apartment, evidently to decide what to do about it, when Emmet came.” He paused. His eyes met Lara’s. They were both thinking the same thing—that the Murdocks might have taken drastic measures. They had everything to lose at that point. Those drastic measures could have meant killing Josh.
Rickerson continued, “We probably should have never called her, tipped her, but then at the time, I wasn’t certain of her involvement. A woman…I never figured the killer to be a woman. I think after Packy killed your sister and brother-in-law, Irene Murdock went completely insane. They only wanted the pictures back. I don’t think for a moment she arranged to have them murdered. Realizing how dangerous Packy was, what he had done, she became incensed and decided to kill him. She certainly couldn’t call the po
lice and have him arrested. That would have been suicide. And if he was arrested, he would have surely implicated her husband and herself. I mean, she arranged his release. She had to fear it would come back to her eventually.”
Lara was silent. It was so hard to comprehend. “How did this Packy person get into the house? Remember, you kept driving that point home to me, that there was no forced entry.”
“Oh,” Rickerson said. “I forgot to tell you. We figured that one out about three days ago. Under the front seat of his Camaro, the S.O. found a phony badge. He must have bought it at a police supply store or a novelty store. We assume he just flashed it at your sister, told her he was a cop, and she let him in. It’s my guess that she somehow managed to call Sam at the pawnshop, thinking she was about to be arrested, and when he came home, Packy killed him. From what the coroner says, Ivory was already dead by then.”
Emmet was shaking his head. Josh was looking at the ground. Lara put her hand on his shoulder. She was sorry now that she’d allowed him to listen. It wasn’t easy hearing these things about his mother.
“Oh,” Rickerson said, “guess who suffers from scoliosis?”
“Murdock, right? I never saw him limping. Explain that, Rickerson. You and your people kept telling me that whoever the man was, he would limp.”
The detective stood. He needed to return to the interview room. They were typing Murdock’s statement and he was ready to take it in for his signature. “Up until a week or so ago, Murdock wore special shoes with a lift. Then he developed a problem with his heel, a bone spur or something, and stopped wearing them.”
“This is still so hard for me to swallow,” Lara said. “I mean, Irene should have known it was me. She knew I bought a house in Irvine.”
“Did she ever come over there?” Rickerson asked.
“No, we usually spent time together at the office or at her house in Newport. She had dinner parties now and then. Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever even told her the address. I didn’t entertain much. But you would have thought…”
Interest of Justice Page 41